Christmas in Spring

By Chris Muskett

I walked empty streets
Like Christmas in spring
Windows bright with rainbow tinsel
Parcels dropped at every door
Recycling bins clinking
Hard evidence of hard drinking
Walls abound with the sound
Of being around relatives too long
With the occasional burst of song
Folly of forced jollity
Get up and get out if you can’t get along
Or hit the cheeba packed bong
Mother nature’s green
Paranoia machine
Far better to settle your nerves
Kicking kerbs
Midnight walks in the suburbs.
I stroll each side street’s center line
Pretend to myself that the road is mine
Ticking down my one hour outside time
Pulled along by the fine perfume scent
Of blossom heavy sticky trees
Chanced encounters with waterfalls
That pour in my ears over garden walls
Stolen sonic tinkling treats
In darkened starlit middle class streets
No cars. No bikes. No pedestrians.
Only vans with blue flashing lights
Grace these nights.
Godspeed their flight
Clap them on on Thursday
Our whole helpless community
One for once in wonderment
How do they manage on the funds they’re sent
By our blindly blundering government?
Last left taken. Back on my lane.
Back to the building that is keeping me
Back to the building that is driving me
Back to the building that is wanting me
Inside.
In, but sane.
Home.
Again.

Christmas in Spring is a reflection on the thoughts, feelings and experiences I had whilst taking my hour long exercise walk during lockdown, done at midnight to avoid potential contact and because that’s the earliest that my two toddlers allowed me some time to myself.

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Emma Nguyen
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Emma Nguyen
15 days ago

Beautiful Chris, its about time your poetry got heard

Janine
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Janine
16 days ago

I wish I could be as eloquent in my comment. I love this poem, thank you for sharing it.

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